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The Weeknd - Wicked Games (Explicit)

June 04, 2017

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Disowned.

You were naked in my bed last night. Managed to get you here, situation fucked up without a single fight. You reached out for me in your sleep and pulled me closer. But today we walked past each other though, like it wasn't a bother. Maybe it wasn't, maybe I never was. Maybe I was used, maybe you think "hey, this is just what she does". Can you see my insides, I mean it's where you were so I figure that maybe you can see the feelings on the outside. I guess those don't matter too. That when it comes to me I'll be labelled as some girl you used to do. I will not yell at you now because it'll look like I'm doing that because you made me moan your name. I'm also not sure how to tell you about the peace you brought, the storms you managed to tame. But I will not cry for you, again. Because I was supposed to let go sooner, known how to yell when. I'm trying to let you go, I swear to God I am But I can't help but think about y

A Spiritual Practice.

One day I woke up, in an explosion of sunlight after the longest winter known to man I felt this intoxicating sense of gratitude and wanted to capture it In a small way, day by day. So I bought these sticks of incense and I promised myself to burn at least one a day, even on the bad days. Especially on the bad days. I wanted to have at least one spiritual practice a day. Because that’s what happens when you forget God and the wound where your soul used to be needs some soothing. 10 days later I had the deepest longing for love in my home. I needed my love to have a heartbeat. I needed a love who required oxygen, a being that had feelings and took up space just like me. After much searching and coming to terms with how selfish I really, honestly, truly am, nearly gave up. But then I ended up with some plants. And then I had some die. Honestly that really hurt. But they taught me to try again and again, to water even though there had been death, to invest e

Of Poets & Other Abandoned Things: Day 30

Day 30 Thank you for joining me for my series: Of Poets & Other Abandoned Things. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! Photographer: Rubben Mabuku Fin: My Story Chimamada said something abut the importance of telling our stories. So I'm telling you of a girl who has a gap somewhat like Mama Maya's. How she too can bring that fire. I'm telling you of a woman who fell in love with Miss Shompole. A modern day version of Rumi, the original lover. I'm telling you of a girl who learnt to fall in love with her own skin. The person she as always been. I am telling you the story of a woman who has experienced loss. I am telling you the story of a woman who has learnt That surviving is in knowing That there is charm in the midst of chaos Independence found in the rubble of betrayal Something daring about still attempting construction That at the end of the day self-love is the only absolution. I'm telling you the

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The Weeknd - Wicked Games (Explicit)

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